


the way that i need you

by agreaterlove



Category: Girl Meets World
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Alternate Universe - College/University, Drunken Confessions, F/M, Partying, all kinds of fun stuff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-31
Updated: 2016-06-12
Packaged: 2018-07-11 11:31:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 10,210
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7047880
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/agreaterlove/pseuds/agreaterlove
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Riley shows Farkle, Ivy League graduate, the ropes to college partying and other shenanigans.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. you're pulling me down

**Author's Note:**

> this is a mess, but i love them so.  
> title and chapter titles are lyrics from the song "oceans" by seafret. :)  
> (also, i consider this to take place in the same canon as my fic "if only for the sake of it," but it's not necessary)  
> tw: alcohol, drunkedness

“Oh my God. You’re here. Like right now.”

Farkle shrugs. “Yeah...I mean, obviously.”

Riley shuts the door and Farkle hears the lock click.

 

 

Riley finds him in the dining hall later and slides into the booth across from him. “Hey…” she says quietly.

“Hey. What’s up?” Farkle says without looking up, twirling his fork around in his pasta.

“Sorry I was a bit weird earlier.” She twists her hands together before folding them and forcing them into her lap. “It’s just...I didn’t expect you! You went to Princeton...we went to NYU. I haven’t seen you in a few years. It’s, I don’t know--”

Farkle drops his fork and says quickly, “I finished my bachelor’s in physics early, decided to go for my masters. Here, I mean.”

Riley knits her eyebrows together. “Wow. Like, I didn’t know you could finish early at Princeton. But--and you’re _here?_ At NYU? As a grad student?” She throws her hands on the table and leans back. “You could’ve gone to Stanford. Or something.”

“Yeah, I know. Not a big deal. It’s not like I’m a genius or anything,” he jokes. Riley shoots him a glare. Farkle takes a sip from his coffee and raises his eyebrows at her over the paper cup. “Remember when I wasn’t going to go to Princeton?”

Riley rolls her eyes. “ _Yes_. You were going to give up your dream of whatever for some stupid-ass friend sentimentality.”

“Holy hell. Never realized Riley Matthews would use the word stupid and friend in the same sentence. You okay, Riles?”

She draws her eyebrows together and tilts her head. “I had two cups of coffee this morning because past me decided it was a _great_ idea to take an 8 AM.” She snatches a fry from his plate and tosses it into her mouth, a goofy grin plastered on her face. She shrugs.

“Uhh. Okay.” He stares at her for a few seconds. “You’re acting a little funny.”

“I’m, like, always like his.”

“Yeah, when you were fourteen. But...you were so mature in high school.”

“Do you not like it?” she teases.

Farkle feels the back of his neck grow hot. “No--no, it’s fine. I like it. Yeah, I like it.”

Riley steals another fry and Farkle calls it even. Riley had a tendency to switch her personalities depending on her current circumstance. Or not change at all. Like she did at the beginning of high school: naive, childish. But she’d grown and traded in her foolish crush on Lucas for long-lasting relationships. Or adult relationships, as she called it. But that’s just because she went a lot further than kissing with them.

Farkles sighs and sinks down in his seat, patting his stomach. “So...I’m free for the rest of the afternoon--”

“Matthews!” a deep voice calls out from across the cafeteria. A hulking, broad-shouldered guy strolls over to them. If they were still in high school, Farkle would’ve labeled him as a first-rate jock.

“Peter!” Riley calls back, pointing a french fry at him. “What’s up?” She raises her hand and Peter high-fives her.

“Nothing much.” He shoves his hands into his pockets. “Who’s this skinny dude?” he asks, twisting to face Farkle.

“Just...just a friend from high school. He’s, uh, a grad student.” Riley shoves her hands into her lap and shrugs her shoulders up to her ears.

“Nice. Nice,” Peter mumbles. “Does he have a name?”

“Farkle,” Farkle says shortly, sitting up in his seat.

Peter twists back to face Riley. “Ah, Farkle! Riles _has_ told me about you.”

Farkle opens his mouth, but Riley immediately shouts, “Not _really!_ Not really at all. I mean, a bit. Farkle went to Princeton.”

“You told me.”

Riley nods, her ears growing pink. She slumps a little in her seat.

“So, Riles,” Peter says. “Delta Zeta’s having a party tonight. You interested?”

Riley lets her head fall lazily onto her right shoulder. “Oh, you know I’m there.”

Peter claps his hands together. “Awesome! It’s gonna be fantastic!” he sings before dancing away from them.

Farkle lets out a low whistle. “Think he’s kind of into you.”

Riley waves a dismissive hand. “I slept with him a few months ago. I wasn’t impressed. He must’ve enjoyed it though.”

Farkle raises his eyebrows. He’s still kind of surprised by Riley’s active sex life. Not in a judgmental way. It’s just the only person he’s ever dated was Smackle and they only kissed two or three times. Physical contact and affection just wasn’t their thing. And at Princeton he was too busy cramming in homework to get involved in any of the hookup culture.

“Do you wanna go to the party with me?” Riley asks, jolting him out of his thoughts.

“You want me--?”

“I know that partying probably wasn’t your thing at Princeton. And it might be kind of weird because you’re a grad student who no one knows, but it’ll be fun. I could teach you a little bit about college. I mean, you know, the partying side.” She tilts her head forward and smiles.

“Uh--yeah, sure. I’ll come. Why not?”

“Yay!” She jumps up. “Pick me up at seven?” Farkle nods. “Great. See you then.”

As she skips away, Farkle can’t help wonder what kind of wound he’s reopened.

 

 

 

Farkle gets to Riley’s dorm at 6:45. And that was after he’d paced outside the residential hall, then realized he must’ve looked pretty suspicious, so he went inside. He knocks and Riley calls him inside.

Maya’s lounging on her bed, dressed in all black. Riley rushes around the room only wearing tights and a lacy pink bra. Farkle freezes immediately and he’s pretty sure his entire face is red.

“Oh my God,” he mumbles under his breath and averts his eyes to the floor.

“I’ll be ready in a few minutes. Just looking for a dress. Maya, have you seen my black dress?” Riley says, digging through a pile of clothing. Her back’s to Farkle, so she can’t see him awkwardly shift in place.

“Sweetie, you own like fifty black dresses,” Maya informs her. She throws her legs over the edge of the bed, resting her feet on the floor and stands up.

“I--uh--didn’t know Maya was your roommate,” Farkle tries, scratching the back of his neck.

“Who else would be her roommate?” Maya shuffles over to him. “You look good, Minkus. Those jeans fit you well.” She stands in front of him and looks up at him. “You’ve gotten taller.” At the end of high school, Maya came up to his shoulders. Now, she’s a good inch below them. “Riles, doesn’t he look good?”

Riley looks over her shoulder at him and smiles. “He’s alright.”

“Um,” Farkle stumbles.

“Found it!” Riley shouts, holding up a black bundle in victory. She shimmies into it and grabs her purse from her desk.

Maya reaches up and pats Farkle on both his shoulders. “We’re gonna have fun tonight, okay? No making it... _not_ fun,” she says slowly and then breaks out into a huge grin. She lowers her voice and says, “Don’t tell the RA, but I snuck in some wine and I’m a _little_ bit tipsy.” She turns on her heel and pretends to walk on a tightrope, her arms outstretched on either side. And then she begins pumping her fists and transitions to dancing.

Riley holds her arm out towards Farkle. “Ready?”

Farkle swallows and tries to ignore the fact that her dress is sheer and he can still see her hot pink bra through it. He links arms with her and they march out the door, Maya waltzing behind them.

 

 

 

The music is a lot louder than Farkle expected it to be. But then again, the closest Farkle had ever gotten to a full-blown, alcohol-provided party was some guy’s high school graduation party, which Farkle had left an hour early. Naturally. The frat house is literally shaking as unfamiliar people twirl around the living room.

“It’s--uh--very _loud_ in here!” Farkle tries yelling to Riley. She just looks up at him, smiles, and nods.

Maya squeezes her way through the crowd, disappearing like a child in a grocery store.

They’re not even there for more than a minute before someone shoves a red solo cup into Riley’s hand. She looks at it and heads into the crowd, walking towards the kitchen. Farkle stumbles behind her like a lost dog, adjusting the beanie on his head.

It’s a bit quieter in the kitchen, since there’s a thick wall that separates it from the rest of the living area. A few people have already made their way into the fluorescent room, falling over the table and laughing. Riley shakes her head and dumps the beer down the sink.

“I don’t understand why I didn’t get one,” Farkle mumbles jokingly, shoving his hands into his pockets.

Riley punches him in the arm. “I’m prepared,” she assures him. And then she pulls out two bottles of beer from her purse. Farkle raises his eyebrows, a little bit impressed. She offers one to Farkle and he takes it reluctantly.

She pops the cap off hers and takes a swig. And then she raises her eyebrows at Farkle because he’s just awkwardly holding his bottle. He twists the cap off his and takes a long gulp of it.

Riley gives a short laugh. “Wow.”

Farkle winces as he struggles to swallow it. It doesn’t taste good, that much he admits. He hasn’t eaten since lunch, so he’s feeling a bit weak in the legs, and given that he just downed almost half the bottle, it doesn’t help. He takes another drink, partly because he kind of likes the way it feels, and partly to impress Riley.

They go back into the mass of people and Farkle’s grateful for his height. Riley holds her beer in one hand and grabs onto his shirt with the other. He starts slowing down as people push into him and Riley stumbles into his side. He wraps an arm around her awkwardly and starts heading in no specific direction, but Riley tugs him to the side, away from the crowd.

She tugs him to where a few couches are shoved against the wall, off to the side. Zay is practically asleep in a bean bag and Lucas sits like a king or something on the couch. Maya’s next to him, not understanding personal space, a bottle of beer in her hand. She sits with her feet tucked under her, facing Lucas.

“Oh look who it is!” Maya cooes. “Lucas, _look who it is_ ,” she enunciates, slapping Lucas on the knee.

“I know,” Lucas said calmly, blinking slowly before taking a sip of beer.

Maya scoffs. “You _know?_ Okay.” She busts out in a fit of giggles, collapsing on Lucas, who still looks calm, like it’s a common occurrence.

“Uh, yeah,” Farkle mumbles. He takes his hand off Riley’s back and rubs it on the front of his pants. He falls down onto the couch next to Maya. “My original residential plans fell through, so Lucas and Zay let me stay in their apartment.”

Maya turns to Farkle, squinting her eyes. “Okay?”

Lucas pulls her against him and she rests her head against his chest.

Riley comes over and perches on the armrest next to Farkle. She lazily dangles her beer bottle from her finger tips and sways off pace to the pounding music

“Little bitch boy couldn’t stay away from us,” Zay mutters and takes a sip from his beer.

Lucas immediately starts cracking up and slapping his knee, which causes Maya to snort, and then Riley gives a short chuckle, so Farkle joins in too, despite the fact that he’s sober as hell and kind of wishes he wasn’t.

He hears Riley drop her empty bottle to the floor and then she hisses, “Oh, gross, it’s him.” He looks up to see Peter strolling over to them. In one quick motion, Riley clambers on to Farkle’s lap, wrapping her hands around his neck.

Zay makes a shocked noise and Farkle grunts. “Uh--Riley--what are you--”

“Peter!” Riley calls. She places a hand on Farkle’s chest and twists to face Peter.

Peter stares at the situation: Riley draped over Farkle’s lap and Farkle staring at her wide-eyed, the tips of his ears pink. He clears his throat. “Hey, um, _wow_. You having fun?”

“Lots. Great party!” She moves her hand from Farkle’s chest to his shoulder and looks at him. She tilts her head forward and raises her eyebrows. Farkle tries to focus on her, but it’s hard because she’s so close and all he can think about are his possible ( _possible)_ feelings for her resurfacing and how she just so easily--

“Yeah, lots of fun, Pete! Pretty fucking sick first party--uh--at NYU, I mean,” Farkle chides. He raises his free hand into a fist, which Pete promptly pounds reluctantly, and then he sets his hand on Riley’s back.

Riley giggles and lets her head fall into the crook between his head and shoulder. She presses her lips to his ear and whispers, “Good. Keep playing along.”

When she pulls away, Farkle joins her in laughing. He massages her back, drawing her closer to him. She hesitates for a second, and in that second she gives him a confused look but just as easily allows him to pull her against him.

“So are you guys like a thing?” Peter asks.

Riley opens her mouth to answer, but Maya, now drunk, shouts, “ _Yes!_ For the last time, Lucas and I are dating. Now go crawl back into whatever hole you came from.” She makes a shooing motion and then tucks her head against Lucas’s chest.

Riley gives an uneasy laugh, but Farkle answers clearly, “Yeah, we’re kind of a thing. I mean, I guess, since like high school.”

Riley turns to look at him all serious, “Farkle--”

“Relax,” Farkle whispers, tucking a strand of her hair behind her ear. Riley draws her eyebrows together.

“Yeah. We are,” she mumbles quietly, still looking at Farkle

She reaches for his other hand and grabs his beer from him. She downs it and breaks out into one of her goofy smiles. She shrugs and one strap of her dress slides off her shoulder.

Farkle smiles and nods. “You okay?” He takes the beer back and takes a drink.

Riley relaxes into him, and she smells like alcohol. And it hits him that Riley probably hasn’t had anything to eat. And maybe they both accepted several more drinks than just their beers. But before he can think of anything else, Riley snatches his beanie off his head and sloppily throws it onto her head and Peter says, “Hey do you guys wanna dance?”

Maya groans. “Fucking _finally!_ ” She gets up and drags Lucas after her. It’s almost hysterical watching Lucas drunkenly dance like a confused dad.

Riley detaches herself from Farkle. “Farkle, let’s go dance!” she takes his hand and tries to pull him up.

Farkle tries to cross his legs and the last thing he wants to do is get up and dance. Riley tries yanking him again, but he barely budges. “I’m not really feeling--”

“Farkle. Dance. With. Me.”

So he does. After he finishes off his beer, gets _things_ under control, and he’s finally starting to feel the buzz kick in. Riley throws her arms up in victory and then tries to grab his hands, which he’s flinging around him.

“You dance like a zombie!” Riley yells.

“ _You_ dance like a zombie!” Farkle yells back.

She laughs and pulls him closer to her by the belt loops of his pants. Farkle becomes very aware of her body at this point. He also notes how he really just wants to make out with her and he could probably get away with it. And that he still likes her. A lot. But it’s probably just the alcohol.

“Riley, I--” he starts, but stops.

“What?” she yells.

They get pushed into the crowd, bodies crowding around them, until they’re literally pressed against each other. Riley looks up at him her eyes not quite focused and Farkle knows she’s drunk, and that he’s a bit drunk too.

Suddenly her eyes light up and he follows her gaze to Peter who’s leaning against the wall in the hallway. She fists his shirt in her hand and tugs him away from the party into the hallway. Farkle knows it’s a bad idea. Knows he probably should just leave or something. But he would be lying if he said he didn’t like it.

She shoves him against the wall and for all he knows about science, he can’t understand what draws her to him over and over again. “Riley, I really like you and this is a great idea. I jus’ wanted to tell you that,” Farkle slurs. “Like a lot,” he mumbles.

Riley grabs the collar of his shirt and kisses him. Her hands move up and she fists her hands in his hair and Farkle wraps his arms around her, pulling her against him. He’s never been kissed like this before. Riley’s _good_ at this and he can only assume he’s pretty decent, considering she hasn’t stopped. Or she’s too drunk to care. She turns her head away slightly, so Farkle presses a sloppy kiss to her cheek. She’s turned towards Peter or at least where Peter used to be. Farkle pulls away slightly, trying to meet her gaze.

He blinks a couple of times, trying refocus and gather his thoughts. “You...you were my first kiss,” he mumbles, but Riley can’t hear him. “I was...yours. And this--this--”

She whips her head around to face him, his beanie flying off her head. Her eyes are wide as she presses the tips of her fingers to her slightly swollen, red lips.

Farkle draws his eyebrows together. “Wait, were you trying to make him jealous? Like, originally I thought you were trying to get him to leave you alone--”

She rushes down the hallway, away from him without saying anything. Farkle stoops down and picks up his beanie off the floor.

_Idiot._

 


	2. from somewhere within

Riley stares blankly as Peter shuffles into her dorm bathroom. She looks over at Maya’s bed, partly wishing Maya didn’t go home with Lucas, but stayed with her. Discouraged her from being a complete idiot.

She groans and doubles over, elbows on her knees, hands against her temples. She wasn’t even that drunk last night. But she wishes she was. Maybe it would excuse her behavior. Maybe she wouldn’t remember every detail of everything that she did.

Falling back, she remembers how she used Farkle in an attempt to make Peter jealous. She didn’t even _like_ Peter. Or want him in anyway. Unlike her, Farkle had accepted numerous drinks in addition to the beer she supplied him. But it was fine. It was his first real college party and he was expected to act a bit reckless. She just hopes he doesn’t remember anything.

A knock comes from her door. Riley quickly shrugs her robe on and opens the door. Farkle stands before her, an iced coffee in both hands, one full one and one almost empty. He looks pretty good. Except for the fact that his hair is a bit mused, dark circles are evident under his eyes, and his shirt is misbuttoned.

“Rileyyy!” he sings, shaking the iced coffees. “I got you some iced coffee. You know, a little caffeine to get you going.” He shoves the full cup into her hand and she stumbles back as he lets himself in.

“It’s six in the morning,” she informs him.

“Perfect timing!” he shouts a bit too enthusiastically. He sits on her bed and drums his fingers against his knee.

“I wasn’t expecting you.” Riley steps towards him. “Farkle--”

Peter walks out of her bathroom. He scoops his shirt up off the floor and shrugs it on. “Hey, little guy!” he calls, addressing Farkle.

Farkle, strangely, sits perfectly still as Peter ruffles his hair. “You were a bit wild at that party,” Peter says.

Farkle gives him a forced smile. Peter stumbles over to Riley, patting her on the arm. “See ‘ya, Riles.” And then he leaves.

“Et tu, Riley?” Farkle gasps, pressing a hand to his chest.

Riley rolls her eyes and sits next to him. “It’s--do you remember anything from last night?”

Farkle shrugs, finishes his coffee, and tosses it into the trash bin. “I think we were _supposed_ to be dating or something. Apparently that had something to do with Peter. You screwed Peter, from what I just witnessed. I played a drinking game with Zay, Lucas, and Maya afterwards, so I pretty much blanked out.”

Riley nods slowly. “Well, I cleared up the whole ‘we’re a couple thing’ with Peter, so…”

The bed shakes as Farkle falls back, spreading his arms out. “Nice,” he mumbles, “the stars, I mean.” He points to the glow-in-the-dark stickers on her ceiling. Because it’s six in the morning, the sun hasn’t risen yet, so they still glow gently in the darkness.

“I should take them down,” Riley sighs.

“No...they’re nice.” Farkle joins his hands behind his head. “What did Peter think of them? Or is he a top?”

“ _Farkle._ ”

“I’m joking, Riley. If you’re happy doing...stuff with Peter then I’m happy.”

Riley starts to think that maybe she _isn’t_ happy doing stuff with Peter. She stares at Farkle for a few seconds, cradling her iced coffee between both hands. She tries to ignore how his shirt rides up a bit, exposing some of his skin above his hip bone.

Farkle turns his head to face her. “Anyway, I came here because in return for you, teaching me about parties and stuff, I could help you academically or something.”

“Okay,” Riley says slowly. She’s surprised that he even considers her teaching him on college parties a _thing._ And that he is still willing to partake in it.

Farkle mistakes her hesitation and quickly rolls up into a sitting position. “I mean--I’m not--I’m not saying you _need_ help academically. You’re smart, Riley--I mean, obviously--”

“I have a psychology test at eight. I was just gonna skip it though and make it up later.” She shrugs.

Farkle breaks out into a grin, his entire face lighting up. “We’ll work on that then.” He scoots to the edge of the bed, his leg bouncing up and down.

Riley gets up warily to retrieve her textbook. “You’re awfully giddy.”

Farkle stops bouncing his foot. “It’s the coffee. I’m pushing through a massive hangover.” He leans to the side to look around her. “You haven’t touched yours,” he notes, indicating the still full cup Riley placed on her desk.

Riley shrugs. “I don’t feel too bad.” She rubs her eyes and grabs her textbook. “Probably because I’m so used to it by now.” She falls down next to him and opens the textbook in her lap. Farkle’s quiet, so Riley looks up to see him staring at her with a strange concentration. “What?”

Farkle shakes his head. “Uh, nothing.” He presses a hand to his forehead. “God, my head’s killing me.”

Riley presses her lips together. “You should’ve stayed at your place. Maya’s _great_ at treating hangovers.”

“Trust me, Maya’s a _little_ bit preoccupied. Plus, I like spending time with you....” he trails off and averts his eyes to the floor. Riley notices the back of his neck turning red.

“So…” Riley says, sliding the opened textbook onto his lap.

“Psychology! Science! Kind of my thing.”

“It’s mostly theories and stuff…”

Farkle flips through the pages. “Freud. He’s a fun guy.”

Riley tilts her head to look at the page. “He’s the guy that used, like, sexual desire to explain children’s psychological development, right?”

Farkle laughs quietly. “That’s Freud.”

“Do you think he’s right? Or that his theory is legitimate?”

Farkle raises his eyebrows. “No, not really. You can’t exactly base everything on sex…”

Riley gives him a look.

“Okay...well,” he mumbles, leaning forward, elbows on the book and turning to face her, “let’s take a look at _your_ selected partners, see if they’re anything like your dad.”

“Oh my God, Farkle. No. We’re not doing this. No--”

“Lucas. They both--” he scrunches up his nose “--they both like sports.” He pats the textbook with both hands and sits up. “Charlie Gardner. Not sure on that one. Peter--”

“ _Farkle_.”

“A nice, fun-loving guy! From what I’ve seen. So far.” He grins hopefully.

Riley smiles and looks down into her lap, tucking her hair behind her ear. But then she sidles up to Farkle until their legs are pressed against each other and says, “Do you think I’m anything like your mom?”

Farkle looks at her, the smile gone from his face. “Uh--what?” he stutters.

“You used to like me, when we were kids, so am I like your mom in any way? You know...Freud’s theory….”

Farkle looks away quickly. “Oh yeah. Uh...I don’t know. I mean, probably. I was young and...maybe we should study. This is getting kind of…”

Riley sits up straight and scoots away from him. “Right, yeah. I agree. Let’s...just go over the parts of the brain.”

Farkle moves the textbook so that it rests on both their laps, yet Riley feels Farkle’s slight distance from her.

  


Riley can’t stop thinking about stupid Sigmund Freud and his stupid weird-ass theory. She can’t stop thinking about Farkle. In some turn of events. It was because she’s just bored, she told herself. She needed something to occupy her mind while Maya went off to hang out with Lucas and Peter wasn’t entertaining enough for her.

She runs into Farkle on her way back from her last class. She hadn’t seen him since their study session the day before.

“Farkle!” she greets him, adjusting the strap of her bag on her shoulder.

“Hey, Riley. What’s going on?” He shoves his hands into his pockets.

In one breath she says, “There’s a spin-the-bottle thing happening at a friend-of-a-friend’s apartment tonight? I don’t know if Lucas or Zay told you, but they’ll be there. Care to join?”

And Farkle says, “Sure.”

And they’re pulled back under again.

  


Naturally, Maya plays DJ. She’s lying on her side, across from Lucas, with the hopes that the bottle will land on both of them. Farkle came earlier, so he’s crammed between Lucas and Zay. Riley settles next to Maya.

“Hey, honey,” Maya mumbles, resting her cheek on her arm.

“Peaches,” Riley mumbles back, smoothing out her skirt.

Maya rolls over onto her back. “Huckleberry and I aren’t having the best of luck.” She tilts her head back. “Hey, Huckleberry, you wanna spin?”

Lucas nods and reaches forward to spin the bottle. It spins quickly and eventually slows down, stopping with one end pointing to Riley and the other end…

To Farkle. Of course.

Riley pushes herself up as Farkle walks towards her dumbly. “Uh--Riley--”

She grabs him by the collar and pulls him towards the closet. “In here,” she mutters.

Several people coo after them. Zay calls out, “Way to go, Farkle! I always figured you and Riley would end up in a closet together someday.”

They stare at each other in the dim lighting, both incredibly sober. The lighting shades the top of Farkle’s head, but it highlights his cheekbones. Riley moves closer to him.

“Hi,” he says.

“Hi,” Riley says back quietly.

Farkle tries to avoid eye contact with her, looking up at the ceiling. “So, what are we supp--”

Riley stands on her toes, wraps her arms around his neck, and pulls him into a kiss. Farkle’s eyes go wide, struggling for breath for a second before pushing her away by her shoulders. Riley falls back, her hands falling to rest against his chest. She looks down at her feet.

“Riley, I’m sorry, but I don’t we should…” Farkle mumbles.

Riley nods. “Yeah, I figured.”

Farkle scratches the back of his neck and gives an uneasy laugh. “No one ever kissed me like that at Princeton.” Farkle stops laughing and stares at Riley, silently urging her to look up at him. “Riley,” he says softly, cupping her chin, gently lifting her head up. “It’s okay. You can’t just spring that on me that’s all. I know it’s easy for you, but for me…”

Riley smiles. “No, I get it. It’s fine. I’m sorry.”

Farkle drops his hand away from her chin and Riley drops her hands from his chest. Riley presses her lips together and pushes forward, “I guess if I’m being honest, I don’t actually like doing any of that stuff with Peter. Or just anyone. I don’t like how it’s easy for me to do that kind of stuff.” She brings her hands together in front of her and wrings them nervously. “But, I don’t know why I’m telling _you_ this.”

Farkle raises his eyebrows and shoves his hands into his pockets. “Well, you’re not obligated to sleep with him. And if he doesn’t understand that, then he’s a dick and doesn’t deserve you.”

Riley gives a choked laugh and moves to wrap her arms around his waist, tucking her head against his chest. “Thank you, Farkle.”

Farkle sighs. “I want you happy, Riles. And...I hope you realize how important your happiness is.” He wraps his arms around her and rests his chin on top of her head.

“I hate to interrupt this moment,” Riley mumbles against his chest, “but everyone’s out there thinking we’re screwing.”

Farkle pulls back just enough to look at her. “You think we should give them a show?” Riley nods.

Farkle goes over to the door and pounds his fist against the door.

Riley shakes her head. “What the hell are you doing?”

“Making it sound like we’re screwing,” Farkle says simply.

“That doesn’t…” Riley moves to stand next to him. “Like _this_ ,” she says, slamming her back against the door. She shimmies a little bit, looking up at Farkle.

He draws his eyebrows together. “Uh--that looks a little weird--”

She slams her back against the door again. A few hoots come from outside.

“Get it, Minkus!” someone shouts.

Riley raises her eyebrows, giving Farkle a _See?_ look. Farkle squints his eyes and shakes his head.

“Alright, your time’s up, you maniacs!” Maya calls.

Farkle reaches for the doorknob, but Riley grabs his hand and pulls him away from the door.

“We have to _look_ like we were screwing,” she explains. Farkle nods slowly. “Come here,” she says. She pulls up his NASA t-shirt and starts unbuckling his belt.

Farkle remains very still, trying to focus on _anything_ else besides her knuckles brushing up against his skin. Riley reaches up and messes up his hair and then steps back. “There,” she says. She unbuttons the top buttons of her shirt and pulls it up, so that it’s not tucked into her skirt. Finally, she runs her hand through her hair and teases it slightly.

Riley steps to the door and opens it, but while she leaves without looking back, Farkle finds himself not wanting to leave the closet. Not wanting to leave the moment where it was just the two of them.


	3. i want you

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tw: alcohol, drunkenness

**riley, 8:03 AM:** starbucks?? 10???

**farkle, 8:06 AM:** with a shot of alcohol?

**farkle, 8:06 AM:** i’m joking. c u then.

**riley, 8:07 AM:** :)

  


Farkle got there before she did. Of course he did. He’s sitting at one of the tables outside, waving to her even though she’s a good few feet away from him. She settles down across from him.

“I already got you a drink. Caramel Frappe. _Light_. But if you don’t want it, I can pay for another one,” he says, sliding the drink across the table to her.

Riley stirs the straw around. “No, it’s perfect. Thank you, Farkle.” She smiles up at him, slightly confused by the familiar comfortableness they’ve fallen in. Nothing happened at the spin the bottle party and she sure as hell never pinned him up against a wall and kissed him senseless.

“So, uh, I got in touch with Smackle. She goes to Columbia, you know.”

Riley nods. “Yeah, I know.”

Farkle turns his cup around between his hands. “Well, I got into contact with her and we have a date. This Friday.”

Riley nods again, slower this time. “That’s great. Good for you guys.”

Farkle takes a sip of his latte. “Yeah, but it might not work out. I mean, it’s been a few years since we’ve seen each other.” He says this slowly and stares at Riley intently, as though it is very important that she understands this.

“Okay,” Riley agrees. “I wish you two the best of luck.”

One end of Farkle’s mouth quirks up. “How’s Peter going for you?”

Riley mocks confusion. “Peter who?”

Farkle leans back in his seat, shaking his head. “Good for you, Riley.”

“Yeah.”

Farkle sighs. “So any misadventures you can take me on today? You know, after my date of course.”

Riley looks to the sky, thinking. “Not that I know of. But it’s only ten in the morning.”

  


There were misadventures Riley could take him on that day. But they were mostly, if not entirely, not her fault.

She arrives at the boy’s apartment at around seven to drag Maya back to their dorm room. They have plans to go shopping, but when she sees Maya, dressed in her undergarments eating cereal out of the box, she lets it slide and goes to Farkle’s room to check on him.

He’s sprawled across his bed, one arm and one leg dangling over the edge. The golden rays from the setting sun shoot through the cracks in the blinds and ignite his blond hair, like he’s some kind of angel. He looks so peaceful, Riley considers not waking him up.

But she does. Which might have been her first mistake.

She shakes his shoulder gently. “Farkle?” she says softly. And when he doesn’t wake up, she shoves him harder and yells louder, “Farkle, wake _up!”_

He sits straight up. “Wh--Riley. Hey,” he mumbles, blinking rapidly. He runs a hand through his messy hair, which causes it to stick out in all directions.

Riley folds her hands in front of her. “So...how was your date with Smackle?” she asks, swaying hopefully.

Farkle’s head snaps up. “My date with Smackle,” he repeats to himself. “Shit,” he curses. “Shit. Shit. Shit.” He covers his face with his hands and doubles over. “I slept through my date with Isadora,” he mumbles into his hands. He reaches over for his phone on the nightstand. Riley can see the screen filled with notifications. “Shit. This is bad. I’m so stupid. Shit.”

He gets up and stumbles past her into the living room.

“Farkle?” Riley calls as she follows behind him.

Farkle shuffles around the kitchen, opening and slamming cabinets. He gives up, eventually, and taps his fingers against the counter. “Zay? Lucas? I need something strong!” he calls. He turns around quickly. “Riley, you should leave. Thanks for coming over to check on me but--”

“No, Farkle,” Riley insists, crossing the room towards him. “This isn’t how it works. You--you need to face your problems head-on, you can’t just ignore them by--”

“Alright!” Zall calls, rubbing his hands together. “It’s only seven and we’re already drinking? Count me in!”

Lucas comes in behind him, Maya trailing after Lucas, cereal box still in hand, except now she’s wearing a pair of Lucas’s sweatpants, which are definitely too big on her.

Riley crosses her arms across her chest. “I’m not leaving.”

Her second mistake.

Lucas pats her on the shoulder as he reaches past her. “Feel free to join, Riles.”

Riley blows a strand of hair out of her face. “It’s too early to drink,” she informs him.

Lucas pulls a bottle of vodka out of his secret cabinet, which usually remains locked. He dances around Riley and Farkle and brings it into the living room. The group follows. Maya tosses the empty cereal box into the garbage.

“That’s never stopped ‘ya before,” Zay points out, plopping down onto the sofa.

Farkle draws his eyebrows together and sits next to Zay. “You should join us, Riley. Drown in self-pity.”

Riley sighs and crouches next to the table where the bottle of vodka sits, like some ritual object. Lucas goes back into the kitchen and comes back out balancing several glasses. He pours everyone a glass, including Riley. He counts to three, but before he can get to three Farkle’s already downed his. The others, excluding Riley, follow suit.

Farkle scrunches up his nose, squints his eyes, and shakes his head. “That tastes bad. Tastes really bad. More, please,” he says, sliding his glass towards Lucas.

Zay claps him on the back while Lucas pours more into his glass. “‘Atta, boy,” Zay chides.

And the cycle continues. Riley rests her elbows on the table, her head slowly falling into her hand as she slumps forward. She watches as Farkle’s cheeks flush as he throws his head back and downs another drink. She loses count of how many refills Farkle gets, but she knows it’s enough to make her wonder why he doesn’t drop into a coma.

  


Riley makes Farkle feel like he’s twelve again. He’s twelve, she’s the sun, and he’s endlessly circling around her, bound by some astronomical phenomenon. He feels dizzy and good, and after every glass, he can’t help but stare at Riley, who’s watching him carefully.

Once Farkle’s feeling bold enough, he steps onto the table. Zay hoots at him, leaning back on the sofa.

The table creaks under Farkle’s weight. Farkle stretches his arms out. “I feel so fucking _good!”_ he yells.

Lucas cups his hands around his mouth and joins Zay in his hooting. Riley still has her elbows on the table, looking up at Farkle, a faint smile on her face.

“And, Riley--,” he mumbles, “I’m really tired.” He stumbles backwards, almost tripping. Riley reaches forward instinctively to steady him.

Zay, Lucas, and Maya boo. “I’m _not_ tired,” Farkle corrects. Zay, Lucas, and Maya cheer. “I feel--like a king! A fucking _king!_ I’m _alive!”_ He lowers his arms, swinging them at his sides.

His gaze suddenly softens as he shuffles forward and looks down at Riley. “Riley, I--I really, really, like, _really_ like you,” he slurs. He doesn’t have time to gauge her reaction before he throws his head back and belts out, “I’m in love with Riley Matthews!”

Riley stands up. “Farkle--”

“Holy _shit_ ,” Maya mumbles under her breath.

Lucas and Zay go quiet. Zay leans over to Lucas and whispers, “Did he jus’ say he’s in love with Riley?”

Lucas blinks. “I don’t--hey, Farkle! Did you just say--”

“ _Okay!_ ” Maya says, standing up quickly and too steadily for someone who just downed several glasses of vodka. “I think we should all head to bed.”

“But it’s only nine,” Zay whines.

“So…I’m going to my room,” she says slowly, raising her eyebrows at Lucas and Zay. “And I think we should _all_ give Riley and Farkle a little space.”

Lucas and Zay stare at her dumbly.

Maya sighs. “I swear to--,” she mutters, stepping towards them.

Lucas and Zay spring up quickly and stumble towards their respective rooms, tripping over each other and the sofa. Maya shakes her head and follows after them.

Riley turns to look at Farkle, eyes wide. Farkle looks down at her. He hangs his head.

“Farkle,” Riley says softly. She takes his hands, which hang limp between them.

“Riley, I don’t--” He draws his hands back and falls forward, but Riley catches him. She struggles as she helps him off the table, his entire body weight leaning on her. It’s a miracle he doesn’t face-plant the floor. He groans as she throws his arm over her shoulders and guides him towards his room.

“Oh, God, I don’t feel good,” he moans, and he begins to tug her with him towards the bathroom, but then he stops. “Nevermind,” he mumbles.

Riley guides him towards his bed and sits next to him. She detaches his arm from her shoulders. Farkle sways a bit, but he remains upright, even if he is slouched over. He pulls the collar of his shirt up, which has a stupid math joke printed on it, and blows his nose in it.

He focuses on his lap, drawing his eyebrows together. “Did I just--tell you I liked you?” he mumbles.

Riley, focused on her lap as well to avoid eye contact with him, says, “Yeah, but you’re drunk. I know you probably didn’t mean it. We all say things we don’t mean when--”

“I’m in love with you, Riley,” he whispers clearly, like he’s rehearsing the line to himself. He looks at her. “I’m in love with you. And the thing is, I don’t know how long...I don’t think I ever stopped…loving you? I told myself--,” he positions himself, so that he’s facing her, “I told myself that it was fine. You dated other people and I supported you--hell, I _encouraged_ you to. And then you came back and--and got me caught up in your life again. Took me to a party, made me pretend to be _dating_ you like it was so _easy_ for you. You _kissed_ me at the party--”

“You _did_ remember--”

“Of course, I did, Riley!” he yells. Riley flinches back slightly. “Sorry,” he mumbles, lowering his shoulders. “Of course, I did,” he repeats, softer this time. He shakes his head. “You…” he trails off.

Riley looks at him, searching for any words that she can say back, if she even deserves to say anything back. He’s so close, Riley can see light freckles that are dotted across his nose and cheeks. As his blue eyes stare at her, she’s sure he’s going to kiss her. And as he leans forward, she prepares herself, but his head just falls into her lap.

He looks up at her, the edges of his mouth quirking up into a smile. Riley sighs. “I’m sorry, Farkle.”

He closes his eyes. “You have no reason to be sorry,” he slurs. “You really are awful, Riley.”

Riley laughs quietly, knowing his words hold no weight. She lifts her hands and gingerly runs her fingers through his hair. She hears him sigh, but barely. “I think,” Riley says, “you should call Smackle. In the morning, when you’re feeling better. Set up another date.”

Farkle rolls off the bed and onto the floor. He crosses his arms over his face, stretching his legs out. “I don’t think any of that made sense, anyway,” he mumbles into his upper arm. Riley doesn’t know if he means his plans with Smackle or his confession of love.

Riley gets up and collects a few pillows and a blanket from his bed. “Lift your head,” she says. He lifts his head and she tucks the pillows under it. She shakes the blanket out and lays it on top of him.

“I hate you,” Farkle grumbles, “so much.”

Riley smiles and moves to leave. She takes one more look at him sprawled across the floor before she leaves and shuts the door behind her.

Her third mistake.

  


**farkle, 2:31 AM:** did you know NASA revealed new pictures of pluto?

**farkle, 2:32 AM:** i know this is old news, and you’ve probably already seen them, but it’s amazing!!

**farkle, 2:46 AM:** riley?


	4. and i always will

“Are you going to say anything, Riles? Or just stare into your lap all day?” Maya asks, looking at Riley from her side of the room.

First of all, Riley isn’t just staring into her lap. She’s knitting. Relieving stress. Alcohol was her first choice, but when she couldn’t get any from anyone in the residential hall, she pulled out her yarn and went to town.

“I’m fine,” Riley lies, twisting a strand of purple yarn around her knitting needle.

“Farkle’s been asking about you a lot. It’s kind of annoying actually.”

Riley drops her needles and yarn in her lap and her shoulders slump.

“Aw, honey,” Maya says, crossing the room and sitting next to Riley on her bed. She puts an arm around her and hugs her.

“Peaches,” Riley mumbles into Maya’s shoulder.

Maya brushes Riley’s hair away from her face. “If it makes you feel any better, I saw this coming. Not the...crying into my shoulder part, but I always had an _inkling_ he still had feelings for you.”

“That doesn’t make me feel better,” Riley mutters. “But your use of the word inkling makes me feel a _bit_ better.”

“That’s good.”

“I almost cracked a smile,” Riley elaborates.

Maya sighs. “You’re a good kid, you know? Don’t let this stupid boy stuff get you down.”

Riley lifts her head and looks at Maya, squinting her eyes. “Maybe I should just bed one and get over it.” She buries her face into Maya’s shoulder.

“Noooo,” Maya sings. She puts her hand under Riley’s chin and lifts her head. “You’re going to forget about Farkle for a minute and realize the awesomeness and uniqueness that is Riley Matthews. Individually.”

Riley smiles and looks down. “I love you, Maya.”

“I know,” Maya says, smiling back. “Now, jumping back onto the subject of Farkle, he’s kind of a genius, if you haven’t noticed, and I don’t think it’s going to take him that long to figure out that you…” she trails off.

Riley looks at her and draws her eyebrows together. “I what?”

Maya presses her lips together and forces a smile. “That’s for you to figure out, Riles.”

  


“Should we talk to him?” Zay asks Lucas quietly.

They’re in the kitchen, leaning against the counter, watching Farkle pace the living room, who is talking to Smackle over the phone.

“I don’t know, man,” Lucas says, shaking his head. “We got him wasted last night, which lead to….”

Zay crosses his arms. “That boy’s gonna crash and burn if we don’t.”

Lucas sighs in agreement.

Farkle lowers his voice, after (politely) arguing with her. “Oh,” he mumbles. Lucas and Zay unconsciously find themselves drifting closer, in an effort to hear him. “Oh,” he repeats. “I didn’t know that.” He draws his eyebrows together and unclenches his fist at his side. “Well, that changes a lot. Wow.”

Lucas and Zay exchange a confused look. _What?_ Lucas mouths. Zay shrugs dramatically and gives him a How-Am-I-Supposed-to-Know? look. Lucas raises his eyebrows and looks away.

“Yeah, I get it. No, it’s my fault for assuming--No, Isado--Smackle, it’s fine. Good for you. That’s great. Yeah, I know. Okay. See ‘ya.” He hangs up and immediately bolts towards the kitchen. “I need something to drink. I’m gonna call Riley.”

“Woah, woah, woah, not so fast, Minkus,” Zay says. Lucas and Zay get to the fridge faster than Farkle and form a barricade in front of it.

Farkle exhales deeply, frustrated, and looks down at the floor. He could probably push them out of the way easily, but he doesn’t. He just hangs his head in defeat.

“Look,” Zay says, hands out in front of him, “I don’t know what you and Riley have been doin’, but you’re not going alcoholic on us. If you wanna go drown in your feelings for some girl, you should’a joined Delta Zeta.”

Farkle sighs, turns on his heel, and sits on one of the stools by the breakfast bar. “Smackle’s seeing someone. It was never a date in the first place.”

Lucas smacks his palm to his forehead. “That’s--that’s what I was forgetting. I was supposed to wake you up for your date! Hey, sorry about that, man.”

Zay punches him in the arm; Farkle glares at him. Zay places his elbows on the breakfast bar and steeples his fingers. “I feel you, man. Okay? I really do. I know what’s it like to be in love with a girl and she feels nothin’ back. Of course, you’ve been pushin’ this for, what? Thirteen years? But here’s what you gotta do: wait, if you think it’s worth it, or give up.” He leans back.

“Wow,” Farkle says, “that was surprisingly helpful, Zay.”

“Yeah,” Lucas says softly.

“I’m still gonna call Riley though,” he says quickly and whips out his phone before Zay can smack it out of his hand.

She picks up on the third ring.

“Uh,” he mumbles because he didn’t expect her to answer. “Ri--Ri--hey, Riley. What’s--uh--what’s the dealio?”

“I wasn’t going to answer, but Maya told me to,” she says.

“Okay. Yeah, so...Rileyyy, what’s going on? You doing good? Probably not, um….”

“Are you okay?” she takes, genuinely concerned. “Are you high? Did Zay give you--”

“He didn’t give me anything.” Farkle looks up at Lucas and Zay, desperate for help. They both stare at him expectantly. He sighs and says, “I’msorryIcalledyoubye.”

“Dude,” Zay says, shaking his head, “you’re crashin’. And burnin’.”

  


“Oh my God. You’re here. Like right now.”

Riley shrugs. “Yeah...I mean, obviously.”

Farkle tries to shut the door, but Riley wedges the box of donuts she brought between the door and the door frame. “No,” she says, “you hung up on me, so I came over. I brought donuts.”

Farkle stills holds the door, keeping it from opening all the way. “Now’s not a good time, Riley.” Riley raises her eyebrows and shakes the box of donuts. “Fine,” he grumbles, stepping back from the door.

“Thank _you_ ,” Riley says cheerfully. “What’s going on? Why is now not a good-- _oh.”_ Her gaze lands on Farkle. Who’s dressed in just a t-shirt and Spiderman boxers.

He runs a hand through his hair. “I’ll go put sweatpants on.” And Riley almost has the urge to suggest that he _doesn’t._ She feels her face grow hot.

As he rounds the corner to his room, Riley places the box of donuts on the breakfast bar. The Goo Goo Dolls croon from Lucas’s room, indicating Maya’s presence.

“So,” Farkle says, rubbing his hands together, “what’d you get?” He climbs onto one of the stools.

Riley turns and opens the box. “Strawberry and chocolate frosted. And five glazed. I know those are your favorites.”

“They are. Thank you, ma'am,” he says, graciously plucking a glazed one out of the box.

He nearly swallows it whole and promptly begins licking the remaining sticky substance off his fingers. Riley cringes. Farkle stops and looks at her. “I forgot. You don’t like when I do that.”

“It’s fine...here.” She reaches for a napkin, takes his hand, and cleans off his fingers.

Farkle looks down at their conjoined hands. Riley thinks she sees him shut his eyes for a second. She also thinks his hand is too cold for comfort. He pulls his hand away.

“I talked to Smackle,” he tells her.

Riley throws the napkin into the garbage. “Yeah?” She tries to hide her enthusiasm, which oddly feels forced. Of course she wants Farkle and Smackle to be happy together. She also wants this whole ordeal to be behind them.

“Yeah,” he mumbles. The stool creaks as he leans back. “And it, um, turns out she’s kind of in a relationship.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah. It was never a date.”

“That’s…”

“Fine,” Farkle says. “I was an idiot to think it was something more.”

Riley nods and looks down at her feet. “Okay.”

“Riley?” Farkle asks quietly, leaning over to try to meet her eyes. “Ri--”

“I need some time, Farkle,” she mumbles quickly. “This is just really….”

Farkle nods slowly. His hand brushes up against hers, but he draws it back. “I’m always here for you. I’ll wait,” he says. He looks up at her and attempts a smile.

Riley turns and nudges the box of donuts. “So...donuts.”

Farkle sits up straight. “How about we dine over donuts and beer?” he offers.

“I would like that.”  
Farkle pushes himself up and walks over to the fridge to retrieve the beers. They settle into an agreed upon silence regarding the whole situation. It’s just Riley, Farkle, and a box of donuts. As it should be.

  


Farkle can’t sleep, so he has an existential crisis. It’s rehearsed. He mentally lists off everything he wants to do before he dies: go to outer space, travel around the world, take over the world (in an ethical way), Riley Matthews, take Lucas and Zay to the Super Bowl, win a Fields Medal, walk on Mars…

  


Riley can’t sleep, so she has an existential crisis. It’s new. Usually it entails her thinking about her future career, worrying over Maya, and sometimes her lacking love life. This time, she thinks back to elementary school and middle school. And all she keeps coming back to is Farkle. Farkle, Farkle, Farkle. Farkle making her admit her feelings. Farkle believing in her. Farkle being there for her. Over and over again. And Riley realizes something. Something she’d never thought would happen in a thousand years. Something she never even considered.

She’s in love with Farkle Minkus.


	5. nothing comes close to

 

“You come to any conclusions yet, Riles?” Maya asks through the dark. They’re laying in their respective beds and should be sleeping, but Maya can sense Riley’s restlessness.

Riley turns over in bed, so that her face is pressed against her pillow. “I’m in love with Farkle Minkus and I don’t know what to do,” she mumbles quickly. Except, because her face is buried in her pillow, it comes out as complete nonsense.

“One more time, honey,” Maya says calmly.

Riley flips back over, exhales, and says slowly, “I, Riley Matthews, am in love with Farkle MInkus. And I do not know what to do.”

“I heard you the first time by the way,” Maya says and Riley knows she’s smiling.

“Maya,” Riley sighs.

“I just had to hear you say it again. Because _Riley Matthews_ is in love with _Farkle Minkus_. In what universe? I can’t believe it. This is great.”

“Maya--”

“Riley Matthews is in love with Farkle Minkus,” she repeats, quieter this time. “Like, we all kind of expected you two to get together at the end of high school. You were close as shit. But, when you didn’t, we weren’t surprised. But, now? Oh boy, I think Lucas owes me twenty bucks.”

“Maya?”

“Yes?”

“Are you done?”

“Not even close.” Riley sighs dramatically. “ _But_ \--,” Riley hears Maya’s bed shake and sees the shadow of her sitting up, “--I think you should act on your feelings. Go for it. You and Farkle...are good together.”

Riley pushes herself up. “Are you sure? I thought Farkle loved us equally--”

“He does,” Maya says confidently. “Just differently.” And then she breaks the tension. “I give you my _blessing.”_ Riley thinks she does a weird bowing gesture before lying back down.

Riley falls onto her back and looks up at the glowing stars on her ceiling. She thinks about it.

  


“Hey, if she fell for Lucas, then I think you’re pretty safe,” Zay tells Farkle.

Farkle draws his eyebrows together. “Are you suggesting Riley’s _easy?”_

“Yeah,” Lucas calls, strolling over, suddenly interested. He leans over the back of the couch.

Zay scoffs and shakes his head. “Why y’all always gotta attack me? I’m _saying_ that here are Riley’s standards--,” he holds out his hand flat, so that it is parallel to the floor, “--and here’s Lucas.” He moves his other hand in a similar position, except it’s beneath his other hand. “You’re below standards, man. Subpar. Mediocre.”

“Huh,” Lucas says, pondering it. “That’s not what Maya thought last night.” And then he walks away.

“That’s fucking gross, dude. Go take a shower. Disgusting,” Zay mutters. He turns to Farkle. “Anyway, I think y’all would be real good together,” he explains.

“Really?” Farkle leans back and rests his feet on the coffee table.

“Really. Plus I already looked your zodiac signs up. You’re compatible. Maybe even soulmates.” He takes a drink from his bottle of beer and kicks his feet up next to Farkle’s.

Farkle leans his head back. He thinks about it.

  


**farkle, 12:45 PM:** are you free later today?

**farkle, 12:46 PM:** like around 9, more specifically?

**riley, 12:47 PM:** yes……

**farkle, 12:47 PM:** wanna meet at topanga’s?

**riley, 12:49 PM:** it’s a date.

  


Riley spots Farkle in the outside dining area. The fairy lights strung across the bushes. Farkle, sitting patiently. She takes the seat across from him.

“I already got you a smoothie,” he says. “Extra thick--”

“So I can eat it with a spoon,” Riley finishes, smiling. She looks down, feeling like she’s going to vomit, but in a good way. Something she hasn’t felt in a long time.

Two smoothies. One straw. One spoon. It took awhile, but Riley realizes there isn’t some specific code to romance.

Farkle folds his arms on the table and leans forward. “Technically, they close at nine,” he tells her, like she doesn’t know. “But I kind of know the owner,” he says in a low voice.

Riley shakes her head. “You’re charming.”

He smiles, proud of himself. “I try.”

“So you told my mom you had a date with me,” Riley assumes. “How’d she react to that?” She stirs her spoon around through the thick substance.

“Well, I didn’t _exactly_ tell her. I just asked if she could keep it open longer for...special Riley purposes.”

“Oh, well, she probably _assumes_ it’s a date, right?”

“Honestly, if I told her, she probably wouldn’t believe me so...no.” He raises his eyebrows at her and looks down at his smoothie.

Riley looks at him. “You’re being insecure.”

“Not really,” he says, still looking down at his smoothie, picking at the plastic lid. “Just logical. All of your past boyfriends have been, you know, _different_ . Athletes. Conventionally attractive. I’m a _math_ lete, and you can fill in the rest.”

Riley scoffs. She lays her arms on the table and leans forward. “For the record, I find you _very_ attractive.” He’s still looking down, now observing the freckles on his arms, but his ears turn pink. “And I like that you’re a mathlete. And you’re into science. I...more than like you.”

Now, he looks up. His eyes wide, hopeful, mouth slightly open.

She continues, “Because there’s Lucas, Charlie, Peter, the list goes on. They’re easy, simple. Uncomplicated. And then there’s you.” She lets it hang in the air between them.

Farkle draws his eyebrows together, trying to put it together. And he thought he was a genius.

“You’re complicated. But I like you, okay?” she whispers.

Farkle nods. He considers making a joke about getting her to say it again, so he can record it. Or how unbelievably real it is. Or the fact that twelve-year-old Farkle is ecstatic. But he doesn’t. Because he’s feeling something different.

He leans closer. “Riley,” he says softly, “I’ve missed you. So much.”

They’re close enough that the tips of their noses touch. But Farkle’s pretty sure they have the same idea, so he tilts his head and kisses her. Riley, almost embarrassingly enthusiastically, kisses him back. _Finally_ , it seems to say. He moves his hand to the back of her neck as she starts clamboring onto the table to get closer. She pushes the smoothies out of the way and moves her hands to his hair.

_Holy shit,_ is all Farkle can think. _Holy shit Riley Matthews is_ actually _kissing me, for real._ And how he imagined this situation going a thousand times before, but reality beats them all. NASA could discover life on another planet and this would still top it. But then he starts thinking about Topanga, and how she’s literally just inside the restaurant. And how she can easily look out and see her daughter, on top of a table, while she kisses Farkle, who’s a good kid, but not the kind that mothers expect their daughters to be enthusiastically making out with. He gets an idea.

He pulls back and rest his forehead against hers. “D’you wanna go to my apartment?”

The edges of Riley’s mouth quirk up. “Subtle. Did Princeton teach you that line?”

But she does want to go. So she does.

  


“How are you feeling?”

“Let’s see: Riley Matthews is in bed with me, wearing nothing but a t-shirt. I’m on cloud nine. Cloud ten, actually, if that’s a thing.”

“It can be if you want it to.”

“I’m on cloud ten. I’m high on life. If I could, I would bust open Lucas’s door right now and tell him.”

“Is that all you wanted from me? Well, guess I better leave, then. It was nice while it lasted.”

“ _Riley_ , if I was just in this for the prize money, I would’ve left a long time ago.”

“By the way, I did see the new pictures of Pluto. Ask Maya, she’ll tell you how ecstatic I was.”

“How intimate, we are. Talking about space and its planets _in bed.”_

“Farkle...I think I love you.”

“Don’t act so surprised, Matthews. For what it’s worth, I think I love you too.”

**Author's Note:**

> thank you for reading!! <3  
> catch me on tumblr at: agreaterlove


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